“Wanna go out tonight?” Louis asks, plopping down on his bed and looking at Harry expectantly.
“Can’t. I have a big exam tomorrow that I have to study for,” Harry responds, laying down beside his roommate on his stomach, using his arms to hold his chest off the bed. They originally came into the room because it is where the Xbox lives however it seems like that had fallen by the wayside, and they are just going to talk for a little while. Harry is perfectly okay with this development since talking to Louis is his most favourite thing to do.
“Ugh. I need to get laid. I haven't pulled in months,” Louis pouts, his firm pink bottom lip turning down. Harry kind of wants to bite it. He has wanted to bite it since the moment he laid eyes on his roommate two years ago. They had been randomly paired in student housing together and became fast friend. Best friends, even. After they had gotten out of student housing, they’d decided to find a place together with their other friends Liam and Niall. There had only been one problem with that scenario, though. Harry may or may not be in love with Louis since the very first month.
“Hey, I’ve offered like a thousand times,” Harry says, allowing a smirk to take over his features. To be fair, he has. He has been hitting on Louis since day one. There is just something so magnetic and lovely about his best friend. Harry would have died for his cheekbones alone from the very first second. Getting to know him was just the nail in Harry’s falling-in-love-with-his-best-friend coffin, so Harry is doomed to spend the rest of his days being in love with someone who is pretty much untouchable.
“I’m straight, Haz. You know this,” Louis sighs, blue eyes finding Harry’s. Yeah. Yeah. Harry knows this. He may as well have it tattooed on the inside of his fucking eyelids at this point. That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try though. Right? What could be harm in trying? Nobody has ever gotten anything from just sitting on their arse and doing nothing except maybe stupidly rich kids. Harry is not one of those, though.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” Harry reasons, smacking Louis on the shoulder, prompting him to laugh. His laugh dies down suddenly, and he looks as if he is deep in thought. Harry would know that look anywhere, he practically has it memorised from their late night study sessions. Louis’ blue eyes are cast down. He is fiddling with his fingers, and his mouth is scrunched into a tight pout. Harry waits. He knows Louis better than he knows himself even. Louis will say whatever he is thinking when he is ready.
“Why do you offer when you know I’m straight?” Louis asks, looking at Harry with curious eyes. Harry is confused by the question for a second. Usually he just gets turned down, but this, this is new. He thinks about it for a few moments, feeling like his answer may be a turning point. He decides to go with the truth, knowing that Louis will appreciate that.
“I think everyone is a little bit gay, they just need to find the right person,” Harry tells him, and it is true. Harry could be that person for Louis. He just knows it. Louis just needs to give him a fucking chance. He knows he could change his mind, given a chance.
“I am almost positive I’m straight. I have never had any type of sexual attraction to a guy,” Louis says, but Harry doesn't miss the way he looks Harry’s long body and up and down, his eyes just a shade darker while doing so. Is Louis actually thinking about this? Harry almost doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. This moment seems pivotal. Like he is playing a game of poker and his whole life is on the line. One wrong move, one wrong bluff, and he could lose it all.
“You’ve never tried it, so how would you know? Could change your life,” Harry says with another smirk. He needs this to be Louis’ idea though. He needs Louis to want this as much as he does. He would never forgive himself if Louis even thought he had seduced him in any way. He just thinks Louis can’t make a decision about men until he tries one out, that’s all. The one man being Harry, of course. He’s looking out for Louis in this, really. Louis appears to be considering his words, weighing the pros and cons in his head. Louis, if nothing else, is logical.
“I’ll make you a deal. We can kiss. If I feel anything, then maybe we can go further,” Louis says after a few moments, and Harry’s breath catches in his chest while his heart just stops altogether. Dead. That is what he is. He is dead and has gone to heaven because Louis can’t be serious. Harry feels like he is in a dream or that maybe he misheard Louis’ words. It has to be that he misheard because he knows he isn’t dreaming.
“What? Louis, are you serious?” Harry asks, his voice high and unbelieving. At least, he has found his voice again. He seemed to have lost it somewhere in between the words ‘kiss’ and ‘further’. He found the damn thing, though, just when he needed it most. Thank the gods.
“You’re right. I haven't tried it, so I can’t keep telling you no. So, go on. Let’s try it.” Louis then turns over onto his side, propping his head in one small hand. The tattoos on his arm flex with the motion, making Harry’s previously dry mouth water. Holy fuck. Louis is serious about this. Louis wants to try it. What kind of world has he fallen into because it can’t be the real world? This shit doesn't happen to Harry in the real world.
“Let me get this straight, well mostly straight,” Harry smirks with his joke while Louis rolls his eyes. Harry ignores it in favour of continuing. “You want me to kiss you?” He mirrors Louis’ position, his eyebrows in his hairline now with the surprise turn of events. He still can’t even believe he just said those words out loud.
“Yup,” Louis responds, his dusky pink lips moving in the most erotic manor to pop the ‘p’. There is a challenge in his eyes, as if he believes that Harry won’t do it. It is just turning him on more though, his cock twitching in his too tight jeans. Louis has no idea of the things he does to Harry. Harry is pretty sure he has told him on more than one drunken night together. They never bring it up the next day, always pretending it didn’t happen, or they don’t remember. That’s what friends do right? They don’t bring up the awkward shit that could ruin a relationship, instead, they sweep it under the rug with all of the other best kept secrets, but this is different now. They aren’t in the dark of the night, too inebriated to see straight. Literally. They are sober, and in the light of the day where straight isn’t even thought about currently. They know the decisions they are making.
Harry is so nervous he could vomit, when he begins leaning towards Louis slowly. He probably shouldn’t vomit though, that would be a definite mood killer, and he may never ever get this opportunity ever again. So, he swallows down the lump in his throat as he leans closer. He can’t fucking believe he is about to do this. He licks his lips when he is close enough to feel Louis breath on them. Louis does the same, a pink tongue peaking out to wet the area around before going back in. Fuck, Harry is about to be in the place that pink tongue is. He holds his breath as he closes the distance. A spark of electricity shoots through his system as soon as their lips touch, slotting together perfectly. Louis lips are firm under his own, slightly damp and far too perfect. There is no way Louis didn’t feel anything because Harry feels like the solar system is aligning, and the stars themselves are falling from the sky. He may or may not get a tiny bit poetic when it comes to Louis. Sue him.
Harry’s eyes pop open when Louis finally breaks the kiss. He blinks a few times, trying to get the actual fireworks away from his vision as Louis’ beautiful face finally comes into view. Louis looks unimpressed, and Harry kind of wants to cry. “Nothing,” Louis confirms, and yes, Harry could cry. How could he feel nothing when Harry’s very DNA feels like it has shifted? That just seems impossible to Harry. Maybe Louis didn’t live through the same kiss he just experienced because Harry knows for sure that the world stopped turning for those few moments.
“Let me try again,” Harry says, an idea forming in his head. Louis sighs, clearly about to say no, but Harry is quick to cut him off. “Hear me out at least?” He pleads, eyes wide and bottom lip coming out. He knows Louis can’t resist this look. It’s how he got Louis to drive him to Yoga at 5am when Harry’s car was in the shop. It’s how he continuously gets Louis to take him to McDonalds for a hangover cure on Sunday morning when they both want to die from drinking far too much the night before. Those same drunken nights of Harry’s confessions.
“Fine,” Louis sighs again, as if listening to Harry is the hardest thing he has ever had to do. He is so fucking dramatic, and Harry may or may not love him for that. Just the tiniest bit really, a minute amount. So small, not even a microscope could pick it up, Harry is sure. Denial. That is what has gotten him through this friendship with Louis thus far, and it will probably be the only thing that will get him through the rest of his life with Louis by his side as he finds some girl to settle down with and have kids. That thought sends a stabbing pain through Harry’s chest. He hates it.
“If I can make you hard, without actually touching your cock, will you fuck me?” Harry asks, left eyebrow arched with the challenge. He can see the interest in Louis’ eyes before he quickly masks it. Harry knows he is going to make a joke before Louis even opens is pretty pink mouth.
“Who actually says cock, Harold? What is this, a romance novel or summat?” Louis asks, completely ignoring the question. Harry rolls his eyes because Louis does love diverting, and Harry saw it coming from a hundred and three meters away. Harry loves denial, and Louis loves diverting. It’s their thing. It’s nice having a thing even though that thing is annoyingly frustrating.
“I always do, now answer the question.” Harry rolls his eyes, but Louis looks like he is back to considering it. His free hand has come up to tap his lip, his eyes cast off to the corner of the room as he thinks about the proposition.
“I don’t think you can do it,” Louis responds after a while, eyes coming back to meet Harry’s. There is a challenge in his blue eyes that wasn’t there before, and Harry is here for it. It’s exactly what he wanted when he introduced the challenge in the first place. He loves a good challenge, and proving to the straight boy that he may not be as straight as he previously thought sounds like the ultimate one. Harry can do this, he just isn’t sure where to start admittedly. He has to get Louis hard without actually touching his cock. This is going to be interesting. He didn’t say that he couldn’t touch the rest of Louis’ body though, so there is a lovely hole in the agreement there that he may be able to use to his advantage.
“Do you have lube and a condom in here for when I win?” Harry asks, smirking at the other boy. Louis rolls his eyes, but nods and gestures to the bedside stand.
“What are you waiting for, Styles? Get on with it. You have an exam to study for.” Louis lays back on the bed, eyes cast towards the ceiling and arms out, as if to say, do as you will. Holy shitting hell. Harry swallows again, not being able to quite believe this turn of events. The straight boy he has been in love with for the better part of two years is giving him free reign. Harry isn’t sure where to start. He doesn’t have time to really think about it because he needs to get on with it, or Louis is going to lose his nerve. He also just talked a big game, so now he is going to have to deliver.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?” Harry begins, deciding to just go with what has been on his mind for years. That seems to be as good of a technique as any, right? He looks at Louis face which has taken his breath away on more than one occasion, and Louis looks somewhat confused, probably thinking Harry was gonna start kissing his neck or something along those lines.
“No…” Louis answers, looking at Harry curiously, blue eyes slanted.
“Well you are. I swear, Lou, I could lay here and drown in your eyes forever. They are just the most perfect shade of blue, unlike anything I have ever seen or want to see. Sometimes, when you look at me, I feel like you are staring into my soul, and you will know all my secrets.” During Harry’s small speech, he gets on his knees on the bed to leans over Louis. Louis closes his eyes for a brief moment as Harry kisses each eyelid lightly, punctuating his thoughts. Louis lets out a small ‘oh’ with the statement, mouth puckered in the cutest way.
“Not to mention your obscenely long eyelashes which cast the most beautiful shadow over your freckles when you’re in the sun or a bright room. Almost like the sun shining through the treetops on a forest floor. Mesmerizing actually. I love your freckles, too. Sometimes, when I’m tired of studying, and I need a distaction, I will trace shapes on your face using your freckles. I am convinced someday I will find a path to a secret treasure,” Harry goes on, his voice low and deep. He sees chill bumps blossom all over Louis’ tan skin, so he leans in to kiss a few of Louis’ freckles on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose ever so gently, having always wanted to do that exact thing. Dreamed of it when he was studying even.
“Just looking at you makes my cock so hard, I feel like it could explode.” Harry doesn’t miss the small moan that escapes Louis’ slightly parted lips with his words. He glances down to see Louis jeans seem to be suspiciously tighter. “You’re mouth. Jesus Christ, Louis, I have dreamed of all of the things I would love to do to your mouth. I bet it would be so wet and warm around my cock. You’d be gagging for it,” Harry says, lowering his lips onto Louis’ once more, kissing him sweetly in contrast to the very dirty words. He licks the seam of Louis’ lips, the other man opening his mouth to allow Harry’s tongue to slide in. Harry moans because Louis tastes exactly how he has imagined for all of these years. He didn’t get to actually taste Louis with their first kiss, but this time he can, and he is addicted already.
“I think one of my favourite things about you though,” Harry breaks the kiss, mumbling the words against Louis’ lips as he snakes his hand under the seam of Louis’ shirt. He feels the soft hair of Louis’ happy trail, running one finger along it until it reaches his navel then placing a warm palm on the area, before he continues, “is your tummy. Fuck, Lou, I love your tummy. I know you hate it, and that very idea hurts my fucking soul. You have no idea the things I want to do to this tummy.”
“Like what?” Louis voice is so small, Harry isn’t sure he heard him. If his ears weren’t so close to Louis’ lips, he probably would have missed it. Harry smirks down at him, before he slowly lowers himself down Louis’ body, keeping eye contact as he goes. He uses his nose to move the fabric of Louis’ shirt up, exposing the soft tanned skin underneath all the way up to his belly button. He nuzzles the hair there before he goes to answer.
“Kiss it,” Harry starts, leaning down to place feather light kisses on the area. “Lick it.” He then sticks out his tongue, tracing an infinity symbol into the skin around Louis’ belly button, leaving a trail of spit in his wake that shines in the light of the room. He can feel Louis getting harder against his chest. Fuck. This seems to be working. “Bite it,” he continues, nibbling on the soft area right below his navel where there is just the smallest pudge of fat. Harry really does love it. He kisses and bites it for a few moments, feeling Louis moving his legs under him, as he marks his skin.
“Anything else?” Louis asks on a breath, and Harry is so fucking hard he may come in his jeans like a fourteen year old dry humping for the first time. Jesus Christ. He didn’t realize the kind of effect this would have on him. He wanted to get Louis going. He never intended to be just as turned on, but here he is grinding into the sheets. He didn’t even realise he was doing it until that very moment. As difficult as it is, he stops his hips, not wanting to come too soon and ruin the evening. He may as well have been trying to stop a bullet train though because it actually pains him, immediately missing the friction when it’s taken away.
“Come on it,” Harry answers, his voice so deep he barely recognizes it himself. He licks along the line of Louis’ jeans, prompting Louis to moan again in response, the sound going straight to his poor neglected cock. Fuck. He can just imagine what the sight of his own come would look like on Louis’ tummy, rising and falling with his breaths. He would probably try to paint a design, or maybe he would just be so excited to come he would release with no rhyme or reason. “I would then lick it off. Every drop and moan while doing so because I would taste so good on your skin. I know it.”
“Fuck, Harry,” Louis whispers, looking up at the ceiling as if the words were some type of prayer. Harry feels it when Louis’ cock twitches again, telling him that what he is doing is working. He kind of wishes Louis would look at him, but this view is good too. Louis’ sharp jaw pointed upwards, the light shining through his eyelashes in the same way harry loves, obscuring his freckles. He is so fucking lovely, Harry wants to cry. He can’t even believe this is happening. His brain is short circuiting, but if this is real, he would be perfectly content never using this part of his brain again.
“Speaking of places I’d like to come,” Harry starts, then he uses two big hands to push Louis’ shirt up his torso. Louis gets the picture and sits up enough for Harry to pull the offending item completely off, throwing it across the room. He takes in Louis’ bare chest with hungry eyes. He has seen Louis shirtless countless times, but this feels different. This time, he seems to be allowed to touch, and fuck, Harry is going to touch. He traces the block 78 tattoo with one finger, then slowly trails it along the scripted words inked into his collarbones. Harry remembers the day he got it. Harry went with him and got his butterfly on the same day. Louis made fun of him because only Harry, the self proclaimed king of puns, would get a butterfly tattooed onto his stomach. Personally, Harry just liked the way Louis says tattoo, forgetting the ‘t’ in the middle completely. Harry could listen to Louis’ accent forever.
“My chest?” Louis asks, watching Harry’s movements along the black ink with dark eyes. He pokes a pink tongue out, wetting his lips, and Harry almost moans from the action alone. Louis isn’t fully hard yet, but Harry can definitely tell he is getting there. Harry shakes his head in answer to Louis’ question, dark curls flying, even though Louis is technically right. He just isn’t be specific enough for Harry’s liking.
“Your collarbones,” he answers bending to trace the letters with his tongue, the cursive writing making it easier. He then trails kisses over the area, still wet from his own spit, finally sinking his teeth into the ‘W’, biting and sucking on the letter. He rears his head back to take a look at his work, a purple bruise already forming on the tan skin. If this is the only time Louis lets him do this, he at least wants him to remember it for days to come. Marking him seems to be the best way to make sure that happens. “Fuck, Lou, your collarbones are deeper than fucking space. I swear, I could float in them forever. My come would look so pretty on the script here. I would even try to get it to follow the calligraphy, laying over it perfectly. It may take me a few tries, but I am willing to perfect the technique if it means getting to see my come paint your chest over and over.”
“Haz,” Louis whines when Harry takes one of Louis’ nipples between his teeth, biting and sucking on the bud until it is hard. He smiles against the nub when he feels Louis’ small hands come up to his hair, tangling in his curls as he hisses out a breath.
“You’re so pretty, Louis. Everything about you is pretty. Your eyes, your soft hair, you lips, your eyelashes, your ridiculously fucking high cheekbones. Everything. I would tell you that every single day, if I could. You’re just so fucking pretty for me,” Harry tells him, using one hand to play with the nipple he just abandoned in favour of kissing Louis’ parted lips again, needing another taste. Louis kisses back with zero hesitation, diving his tongue into Harry’s mouth like it is all he ever needs. Harry wants to cry because holy fucking shit, it’s working. Louis is definitely fully hard now, his shaft straining against Harry’s stomach.
“Harry. Fuck. Touch me, please,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips, eyes boring into his. There is an honesty there that hurts Harry’s chest. He really wants Harry to touch him, to kiss him. This isn’t a dream. This is really happening. Harry can actually feel Louis under his fingers, taste him on his tongue. It is better than anything his horny brain could have ever concocted because nothing is better than Louis. Nothing and no one. Harry should know. He has tried to get over his crush for the better part of a year now. No one has even compared.
“Okay, baby. Okay,” Harry responds, kissing Louis’ nose and cheeks as he trails his hand down Louis’ bare torso, the skin there feeling as if it is about to catch fire. He can’t fucking believe this is happening. He is about to touch Louis. Louis, the man he has been in love with but has always claimed to be straight. Harry knows he is playing with fire, and his heart may not be able to take it if Louis would reject him tomorrow, however he also refuses to live on ‘what ifs’. If he doesn’t take this chance now, he will never forgive himself. Will it ruin their friendship? Maybe. Will Harry ever regret this? Probably not.
“Please,” Louis moans out again when Harry’s fingers come to the button of Louis’ skinny jeans, popping it easily. He uses his thumb and index finger to pull the zipper down slowly, allowing the hardness of Louis shaft to help the glide. He kisses the tip of Louis’ nose one more time before he moves to his knees between Louis’ parted legs. He places Louis’ calves on his shoulder then uses both hands to pull both Louis’ jeans and pants off in one swift move, throwing them to the floor along with his shirt. Louis’ cock springs free, and Harry thinks he may faint. It is more beautiful than he could have ever imagined, thick and red, precome beading at the tip. Harry’s mouth waters wanting to taste, but he knows he must continue the plan.
“Not, yet, baby. I’m not finished telling you all the ways your turn me on,” Harry says. “Your ankles, for example. No one ever thinks ankles are sexy, but fuck, Lou, yours are. They are so delicate, a lot like your wrists. Makes me wonder what they would look like bound to the bed while I devour your cock with my mouth.” Harry kisses Louis’ ankle then, Louis moaning with the words. He then begins kissing his way up Louis’ legs, stopping to squeeze his thighs.
“God Louis. Your thighs are so strong and powerful. I know it’s from all of that footie you do, but I have never wanted to be crushed by someone’s thighs as much as I want you to crush me with yours. I’d die a happy man.” Harry then bites the flesh there, feeling the muscle flex under his teeth, making him want to bare down harder. He doesn't. This is about Louis’ pleasure, and he isn’t sure if Louis is into pain. Maybe they can have that conversation if there will be a next time.
“Harry. Fuck. Touch me,” Louis begs again, looking at Harry with dark, wet eyes. Harry rubs up and down Louis’ thighs, squeezing them as he goes along. He is so fucking hard, but he wants this to continue. He wants to let Louis know all the things he does to him just by existing. He will do this all fucking night if he has to. If he touches him, then it’s over. Louis will fuck him, and that will be the end. Harry doesn’t want it to be the end.
“Turn over for me,” Harry commands, tapping Louis’ hip with two long fingers. Louis looks desperate, his brown hair mused from his own fingers, his cock hard and sitting on his right hip, tip leaking with the need to come. When Louis looks at him, confused, Harry adds, “Louis, I’m not gonna do anything your are uncomfortable with. You can tell me to stop at any moment, and I will. You have my word.
“Okay.” Louis nods, his mouth still slightly agape. Harry kisses him hard, running his fingers through his already messed up hair. Harry is aware that he is still clothed while Louis is laying naked, but something about that fact makes Harry that much harder. He had no idea that would be such a turn on, but it is. He places one large hand on Louis’ jaw line, stroking his cheekbone as he kisses him, trying to convey his feelings in it.
“So, hands and knees, yeah?” Louis nods again, then flips his body over, using his shaking limbs to support himself. “There’s my pretty boy,” Harry muses, taking in the site before him. Holy shit. Louis’ strong thighs are spread wide to support him, the tan skin on his back expanding with every pant of his breath. His thick cock is laying heavily between his legs, balls high and tight as it swings with his breath. Harry wants to fucking whimper.
“Harry. Do something. Please.” Louis’ voice is high and raspy coming out mumbled against the pillow, but Harry just wants to stare for another well… forever. He would happily stare at Louis spread out before him forever. It is better than any statue or building constructed. He would stare at this over the Mona Lisa any day of the week because Louis is art. He scrubs a large ringed hand over his face, shaking his head to clear it, effectively snapping him back into the moment. Yes. Louis begged to be touched, and who is Harry to say no to that kind of request.
“Okay, baby, but first I want to tell you that I love the dimples on your back at the bottom of your spine. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to dig my fingers into them as you were fucking me.” Harry fans out his fingers then squeezes, thumbs going into the the deep divots at the base of Louis’ back, making Louis throw his head back and moan out. Harry leans down to place a kiss on each one, not being able to stop himself even if he tired.
“But your arse, Lou. I have been fantasizing about this arse for so long, dreaming about all of the things I would do to it if I ever had the opportunity,” Harry says, taking the two meaty globes and squeezing them hard. Louis doesn't seem to mind the pain because he growls when Harry does it, the sound going straight to Harry’s cock which is now straining so hard against his jeans, he fears for the safety of his buttons.
“Fuck, Harry. Tell me what you would do to it. Or fucking show me. I don’t care which,” Louis pants out, smacking the pillow by his head when Harry squeezes again, hard enough to leave bruises. Harry smiles against the small of Louis’ back at the words, heart beating madly in his chest. He just can’t fucking believe this turn of events. He had no idea that his day would go this way all because Louis finally asked the right question.
“Well first, I would kiss and bite every inch of it,” Harry tells him, beginning to trail hot wet kisses over the area, nibbling along the way, making Louis squirm under the ministrations. “Then I would devour it.”
“W--what do you mean?” Louis asks, looking at Harry over his shoulder. Fuck. Harry almost forgot that straight guys probably don’t get this kind of treatment very often, if ever. Their loss really, because it’s fucking fantastic, if one were to ask Harry. Instead of replying, Harry decides to show him. He parts Louis’ cheeks and licks a hot stripe from the base of his balls all the way up to the end of his crack. Louis freezes with the action, and Harry holds his breath, feeling as if he is watching Louis teeter on the edge of a cliff deciding whether or not to take the plunge.
Louis is pretty sure he just felt Harry’s hot tongue on his arse, but he can’t be sure. The only thing he can be sure of is that Harry’s voice is intoxicating, the words tumbling from his sinful lips damn near pornographic. He didn’t think he would be into this. He thought he was straight, but, fuck, Harry is proving him wrong. He is so close to begging Harry for his dick, he isn’t even sure who he is anymore. Is it normal to have an existential crisis when your best friend just licked a hot stripe up your arse? Nothing about this is normal, but Louis’ isn’t sure he gives a fuck because it feels too good not to be right. He has never been so hard in his life, and it is all due to a man. A very gorgeous man. Even Louis could admit that before all of this happened. Harry is fucking breathtaking, any sane straight man could agree to that.
“Fuck. Harry. Do that again,” Louis tells him. He still isn’t sure what Harry had even done, but he needs more of it. He never thought he would be into this. Never thought he could be attracted to a man, but the mix between Harry’s deep voice talking dirty and his filthy mouth kissing him has Louis reconsidering everything he had ever thought to be true about himself. Fuck, he isn’t even sure his name is Louis or that he has blue eyes. His name could be something ridiculous like Zayn, and his eyes could be fucking brown for all he fucking knows. He just wants to fucking come, but Harry seems to have other plans.
Harry hasn’t even gotten undressed yet, the bastard. Louis desperately wants to see what he looks like naked. He has seen Harry mostly naked before, but for the first time in his life, he wonders what harry’s dick would look like. He aches to know what it would feel like. That is just not a thought Louis is willing to consider right now, so he pushes it to the back of his brain, Harry’s firm tongue making for a great distraction.
“God, Lou. You taste so fucking good. I could eat your arse all day, I swear,” Harry says, and Louis can feel the words against his rim. Harry’s pointed tongue presses against his hole, and Louis isn’t sure if he should pull away or push towards it, he goes for the latter. It is not a mistake. It shouldn’t feel this good. A straight man shouldn’t feel this good while their ass is being eaten by their best friend, but perhaps, just perhaps, Louis isn’t a straight man after all. If Louis were straight, Harry would have never been able to get him hard in the first place. It’s not like Louis was closing his eyes and picturing some bird. No. He was listening to Harry’s deep voice, watching his big hands run up and down Louis’ body seeming to remember every line, mark, and blemish.
“I love how curvy you are. So beautiful. So fucking pretty.” Harry’s breath ghosting over his too hot skin, making him feel even hotter. There’s that word again. Pretty. Louis has never been called pretty a day in his life, but when Harry says it, Louis believes him. He is okay with being called pretty, preening to the word really. He isn’t sure who he is anymore, but if Harry thinks he is pretty, then maybe he is fucking pretty. Harry begins sucking on his entrance, and Louis wants to fucking cry. When he started referring to it as an entrance and not an exit, is beyond him, but here he fucking is. His dick is aching to be touched, but Harry doesn't reach out for him yet. The deal was that Harry couldn’t touch his dick until Louis got hard, however Louis has been hard for what feels like hours, and Harry still hasn’t fucking touched it. The twat.
Once Harry’s tongue starts lapping in thick, broad strokes, Louis thinks he may be able to get used to the sensation. He no longer feels the need to squirm away from it, but he does want more. He just doesn’t know what more would entail. His body is on fire with this need, and Harry’s large hands are gripping onto his ass so firmly, he is probably leaving marks, isn’t helping he him decide. Finally, Louis decides to stop fucking thinking about it, and just go with his instinct, which is to push back against Harry’s tongue. A low moan escapes from deep within Louis’ chest that he didn’t know he was even capable of making. Harry’s tongue is now going impossibly deep, licking into him, and Louis wants to scream because he can’t think of a single other way to express this feeling. He collapses onto the pillow in front of him, screaming into it, completely overwhelmed with the sensations effectively assaulting his system.
“More,” Louis cries, and he may actually be crying. He can feel the wetness of the pillow against his cheek, but it could also be drool. Who fucking knows. He certainly doesn’t think he cares because right now, it feels like his entire body is falling apart on his best friend’s tongue. Could he really label Harry as that anymore? Best friends don’t do this. They don’t pleasure each other in this way. Fuck. If this was a girl, Louis would probably be fucking proposing. Louis can’t think about his relationship with Harry right now, when Harry’s tongue and now, possibly the tip of his finger is laving at his entrance.
“Fuck,” Harry mummers, and Louis’ feels the words as they go straight into his dick, making him that much harder. He doesn't know how that is possible, but it has happened. Put it down in the books as a miraculous phenomenon of epic proportions. That pretty much describes this whole fucking experience so far, if Louis really thought about it. Which he is decidedly not doing. Harry moans, and Louis feels it when Harry adds a second finger along side the first. Louis doesn’t have a second to tense up at the intrusion though, because Harry is fucking licking alongside his fingers, his tongue feeling so good, all Louis can do is cry into the pillow.
“God. Fuck. Harry. Please. Please. Fuck.” Louis has no idea what the fuck he is begging for. He just knows the pillow is wet, his throat feels raw from screaming, every pore in his body feels like a microscopic inferno, and his dick is throbbing with the need to fucking come. His body is shaking, actually shaking, and he is pretty sure Harry now is two fingers deep in his arse, licking into him. He just… he can’t find a fuck to give. The only thing he wishes is that Harry would give him a fuck. Holy shit. Where the bloody hell did that thought come from? Probably from the fucking need to come. He pushes that thought to the side when Harry moans into his rim, making his whole body vibrate with it, as if he wasn't already trembling enough.
“Taste like heaven,” Harry whispers like a secret, and Louis isn’t even sure if the words were meant to be heard by anyone other than the fucking walls, but Louis heard them. He whimpers into the pillow, neglected dick twitching painfully between his legs. He feels like he may actually be dying or maybe he is just living better than he ever had before. Every nerve ending in his body is going off with a spark, lighting up behind his eyelids like literal fireworks, each one combining with the next to spell ‘Harry Fucking Styles’.
“Harry. Fuck. Please. I need…” Louis’ sentence trails off when he feels Harry scissor his fingers, licking in between him hitting a spot that makes Louis’ balls feel like they are going to explode. The pleasure literally goes through his entire groin area, making his balls, dick, and pelvis ache with need. He cries harder into the pillow with the sensation, not know what else to do because if feels so fucking good. Louis’ isn’t straight. Not by a fucking long shot. Not when it comes to Harry.
“Ah. Fuck. Oh God.” Louis’ entire body is twitching, as Harry takes him apart one cell at a time. He just hopes he will come back together after this. He already knows he will be a changed man. He will never be the same again, and Louis is strangely okay with this. When Harry’s tongue touches that spot again, Louis breaks. “Please Harry. Need it.”
“What do you need, baby?” Louis hears Harry ask, breath ghosting over his backside, causing chills to erupt on the skin. Harry’s voice is deeper than Louis has ever heard it, sounding as if Harry has swallowed a handful of gravel rather than eating Louis’ ass for half an hour or maybe months. Louis shakes his head, not really knowing how to answer. He’s got two fingers in his arse, but just wants more. Feels like he needs it with every fibre of his being. Like if he doesn’t get it, he may die. What it is, he isn’t sure.
“Fuck me, Harry. Please. I need you. I need you inside of me. Want you to fuck me,” Louis finally says, moaning the last words when Harry growls, biting his arse hard. When Harry removes his mouth from Louis’ skin, Louis looks back, finding Harry’s eyes. Harry’s red mouth and chin are glistening with spit, his green eyes dark and glassy, his curls ruffled. He looks so fucking beautiful, it hurts. How had Louis never seen his best friend in this way before? How has he been this fucking blind? This breathtaking man has been right in front of his face for two fucking years, and Louis couldn’t see past his fucking dick. He really didn’t think he was attracted to men, but he was so fucking wrong. It is painfully obvious now.
“Are you sure, Louis? You can fuck me, like the original plan.” Harry’s words are slow and slurred, as he if is high, and maybe he is. Maybe he is high on Louis. Louis gets the sentiment, because he feels like he is addicted to Harry at this very moment. Louis takes a minute to think about the question. Is he sure? Harry is right, the original deal was that he fucks Harry, but that was before. Before Louis knew what this felt like. Before Harry unlocked this person within him who wants nothing more than to have Harry inside of him, filling him up with more than just two fingers. Louis finds himself turning around and nodding before he is able to form coherent words.
Once he has turned around completely, he parts his legs and brings himself up to Harry, pulling their lips together in a searing kiss. He knows that Harry’s tongue was just in his ass, but he doesn't taste any different. His lips are slick with spit, and he is moaning wantingly. Louis trails a hand down to his own dick, but Harry slaps it away, breaking the kiss to give him a pointed look. This just spurs Louis’ desire on, lust erupting all over his body, blistering his skin.
“Please, Harry. Fuck. Please fuck me. I know I want it. I won’t regret it. Just need you in me,” Louis begs, closing his eyes when another wave of arousal hits him, making his now empty ass clench around nothing. He looks up at Harry. He can feel the moisture around his eyes from his earlier tears, and Harry must see his desperation because he is on top of Louis, pushing him back onto the bed and kissing the life from him in one swift movement. Louis needs to feel every inch of Harry’s skin on his, being deprived of his body for too long, so he uses two shaky hands to find the hem of Harry’s t-shirt, breaking their kiss long enough to pull it over Harry’s head, curls flying with the motion.
“Okay, baby. Okay. You’re okay. I wanna be inside you, too. I’ve been dreaming about it since we met. How tight you’d feel. The sounds you would make. You have already been making the most obscene sounds, tonight, Lou. They’ve been driving me crazy. See what you do to me? What you have always done to me,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ ear, then takes his hand, pressing it to the front of his bulging jeans. Louis’ eyes widen when his hand is touching Harry’s big hard length through the fabric. Louis’ hole clenches involuntarily at the thought of having it inside of him, filling him up. He has no idea where these thoughts have come from, because straight boys don’t think this way. He doesn’t think he’s straight anymore, because his mouth is dry, and he wants nothing more than for Harry to have his way with him.
“Harry,” Louis manages to moan out then brings his hand up to the fly of Harry’s jeans, popping the button and unzipping them with one hand easily. He then uses both hands to push the jeans and pants off Harry’s hips, Harry takes over from there, his impossibly rigid length springing free. Louis can’t help but stare, never really taking the beauty of a man’s hard dick into account before, but just like everything else on Harry, it is fucking beautiful. Louis isn’t surprised. Harry then leans over Louis’ body, opening his bedside table drawer, coming back seconds later with lube and a condom held in one big hand. Louis swallows, the moment suddenly becoming far too real. Harry must notice his unease because he starts talking again.
“So pretty for me,” Harry mummers, running his his hands from Louis’ hips up his sides, onto his chest, and up his neck, then back down, repeating the motion. Louis begins to relax again immediately, the baritone of Harry’s voice making his body feel as though it is melting into the mattress. Harry’s mouth is on his again, Louis’ sighing into the kiss as it becomes dirty quickly, all tongues, teeth, and spit. Louis is so distracted, he doesn’t hear the cap on the lube pop, doesn’t register Harry had even done anything until he feels three slicked up fingers slowly sink into his entrance. Harry uses his free hand to tweek Louis’ nipples, then bites his lips, effectively diverting his attention from the intrusion. Louis finds himself relaxing around the digits, allowing Harry to press deeper.
“Holy fuck. Harry,” Louis says, eyes wide with pleasure when Harry rubs a finger against that spot again, sending electrical currents throughout his entire system. He has never been this turned on his life. Didn’t know it was possible when no one had actually even touched his dick yet. He wants nothing more than for Harry’s big hand to wrap around his shaft. He knows that with two quick tugs, he would get off, which is the exact reason Harry has probably yet to do it. Oh well. Maybe he can get a handjob from him after he is done studying tonight.
“You feel so good, Lou. So tight. Can’t wait to see what you feel like wrapped around my cock. Want me to fuck you hard? Hmm? Or would you prefer nice and slow?” Harry asks, fingers pressing in harder, hitting his spot with every shallow thrust. Louis finds he doesn’t give a flying fuck how Harry fucks him, as long as he does. And soon. He feels like he is going fucking crazy with the slow grind of Harry’s fingers, wanting the slow grind of his hips and cock instead. He should have known that Harry would fuck like he talks, but he doesn’t care as long as he fucks. Holy shit.
“Harry. Fuck. Please. Now. Please. Ah. Shit,” Louis rambles, not being able to form intelligible sentences any longer. He probably won't be able to until he actually fucking comes, which given Harry’s pace, could be weeks from now. Fuck. He is strangely okay with this. He knows if he comes, it could break this illusion, thrusting them both back into the reality of their actions. Louis doesn’t think he will regret this, but he isn’t positive. He won’t be until it’s over, but he doesn't want to question it right now. He is enjoying it far too much to stop it.
Harry seems to fucking finally take the goddamned hint because he sits up on his haunches, the black ink of his tattoos contrasting perfectly on his pale skin. Louis licks his lips, wanting to taste that skin. Maybe a different time. Maybe next time he can return the favour. Next time. He never realised how perfect Harry’s body is. His chest is broad and toned, black tattoos dotting various areas of his skin. Louis was with him, holding his hand when he got half of them, some even complimenting his own. That may be weird to some people, but that is their friendship. He watches with hooded eyes as Harry opens the condom with two slightly oversized front teeth, then slowly rolls it onto his hard red dick. He puts more lube on his length, stroking it a few times with a big hand.
“This is going to feel really weird at first, baby, but you have to relax and trust me. Okay?” Harry says, the term of endearment dripping from his tongue like dark chocolate melting in the sun. Louis nods frantically, just wanting to feel full again. He already misses Harry’s long fingers pressed against his walls. He just needs it again. Louis watches as Harry lines himself up. He feels it when Harry starts to press in, the stretch burning around his rim, causing Louis to tear up again. Holy shit. The pressure. He wasn’t expecting that nor the stinging sensation. Harry’s right. It does feel weird but not wrong. It feels uncomfortable, but nothing that Louis doesn’t think he can handle.
“You still with me, love?” Harry’s voice breaks into his concentration. Harry has his jaw clenched, a light sheen of sweat covering his entire body. Louis blinks back his tears, concentrating on Harry’s face. The way his dark brows are creased in concern, the smallest pout on his kiss bitten, red lips. Louis nods, but Harry must not believe him. Louis’ isn’t sure he believes himself. It’s just so much. Almost too much. Harry leans down then, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that Louis feels all way down to his soul, one that will forever change his very DNA. Louis barely registers when Harry begins pushing in again, too wrapped up in the kiss and the tingling feeling on his entire body,
“Harry,” Louis moans into the other boy’s mouth, back arching off the bed from the sensation of Harry being all around him, inside of him. Harry hums, kissing down his jaw then biting Louis’ neck, marking the skin and driving Louis mad. Louis is going to feel this tomorrow. Is going to feel every place Harry has kissed, touched, and marked. He may even admire the spots in the mirror when he is alone, and hope that Harry will continue to make them.
“You’re so tight, Lou. So hot. Holy shit,” Harry growls, the sounds going straight to Louis’ now somewhat waning erection, his dick beginning to fatten once again. He has never been so turned on and so soft at the same time, must have been the slight pain. Harry looks like he is holding his breath, not moving a single muscle as he looms over Louis’ body, keeping himself up on one strong arm. “You gotta relax, baby.” Harry’s voice is deep and rough, the words coming out almost a hiss as he closes his eyes. Relax? It’s kind of difficult to relax when you have a dick up your arse, and you are definitely not used to the sensation. Louis takes a deep breath, attempting to relax himself.
“That’s it, my lovely boy. You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking me so fucking well. Perfect really,” Harry praises, the words like a calming balm to his overheated skin relaxing him more than anything he could physically do. When Harry’s big hand comes up to pet his hair, and his lips come down to capture Louis’ in a sweet kiss, Louis melts completely, full body going pliant and suddenly, everything feels fucking amazing. It’s like something in him shifted when he stopped resisting, allowing an incredible pleasure to take over his system, his dick instantly hard. Holy fuck.
“Move. Fuck. Harry. Please, need you to move,” Louis urges, eyes rolling back in his head from the ache in his balls at the need for friction, for something. He bites Harry’s neck, a moan escaping him tickling his teeth as they vibrate from the sound. Then Harry begins to move, and Louis doesn't think he will ever be the same. It’s like a bomb has detonated in his body, the flash going off behind his eyelids when Harry’s hard length scrapes his walls, the head of his dick grinding against his spot with each small movement. Louis’ body feels like it is in overdrive, shaking with the insurmountable amount of pleasure. It’s almost as if his brain isn’t sure what to do or focus on, so it is kind of shutting down. He is being reduced to a pile of shaky limbs, moans, and sensations.
“Fuck. Louis. Oh my god. You’re so fucking beautiful. I should have told you that before tonight. Sometimes when I look at you, it hurts my chest, it feels like I can’t fucking breathe,” Harry rambles, the slow movement of his hips following along to the cadence of his voice. Louis knows that problem. He is currently fucking having it. He feels like he has a cage around his lungs, stopping him from inhaling any air into them. He is suffocating on Harry, but he can’t find it in him to want to breathe in anything other than his best friend. He no longer needs air. Just Harry.
“Ah. Harry. Fuck. I...” Louis doesn’t know what he was planning to say. Maybe it was a confession. Maybe it was just another curse word to add to his string. Maybe it was to tell Harry to keep doing whatever in the fuck he is doing with his hips that is making him crazy. He almost wants Harry to go faster, but at the same time, he wants to freeze the moment, making it last forever. It is definitely a juxtaposition of epic proportions. They may never know because Louis can’t fucking think. He can’t breathe or think. Both basic human functions just completely leaving him when Harry entered him.
“I have dreamt about this moment forever, Louis. How you would taste. How you would feel. Fuck. It’s better than anything in my wildest fantasies.” As if he can’t help it, Harry dips his head down again to taste Louis’ lips, moaning into them. He doesn’t speed up his hips at all, continuing the slow grind making Louis’ eyes roll back once again. He fears for his retinas thinking this may actually make him go blind. Suddenly, rolling his eyes at stupid people all of these years seems like a preparation for the pleasure he is currently enduring. He may lose his contacts in his brain, but he is perfectly okay with that as long as Harry keeps doing this.
“Harry, please,” Louis begs, and he isn’t even sure what he is asking for. He feels like he needs more friction on his dick that is currently trapped between Harry’s rock hard stomach and his own softer one. One that Louis hates, but Harry seems to love. That is the thing about Harry’s speech from earlier. He believed it. He believed his words with every fibre of his being, and he can’t believe he was ever so blind to not see Harry who has been right in front of him this entire time. Harry who thinks he is pretty and loves his imperfections. He was even fucking kissing them earlier, telling him how beautiful he finds them. Fuck. Harry even had something to say about his fucking ankles.
How was he so blind? Louis kind of hates himself for that. For never giving this a chance. For never giving Harry a chance when he had offered so many times. At first, Louis thought it was a joke. Then after one too many drunken confessions, it seemed all too real, and Louis wasn’t exactly sure how to react. How does one react when your best friend, who is of the same sex as you, says he is in love with you? He kind of freaked out the first time, then every time after that, passing it off as a joke or some passing fancy. He has no idea why he challenged Harry today. Maybe because he knew, somewhere deep inside of himself that this would happen. Maybe he hoped it, or maybe he just wanted to prove to Harry once and for all he wouldn’t be attracted to him. He was wrong. So very fucking wrong.
“God, Lou. You’re my favourite person in the whole world. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Louis just nods in response, not trusting his own voice as he blinks back tears at Harry’s loving words that go straight to his heart. He feels as though it is going to explode, along with his dick at the current moment. What a weird thing to be happening. Louis doesn’t question it though, he would never question Harry again or his intentions. Louis looks into his eyes, almost moaning at the honesty and not the overwhelming bliss of Harry moving deep inside of him.
“I could fuck your pretty little ass forever.” Harry then leans more of his weight on Louis’ body, the rest of it resting on one arm, as he uses the other to grab Louis’ arse, sinking deeper. Louis cries out as another wave of pleasure rocks his body, sending him that much closer to his release. He is getting just the right amount of friction on his dick. He feels like he’s dying or maybe living for the first time. Like he has been resurrected into a new person who likes dick and wants Harry.
“Harry. I’m close,” Louis suddenly realises, eyes going wide with the recognition of the feeling deep in his stomach. The familiar pull behind his navel that feels taut as if it may snap at any moment. His balls feel like they are going to combust sooner rather than later, his dick harder than it has ever been in his entire life. Harry still doesn’t pick up the pace, continuing his agonizingly slow fuck.
“Come for me, baby. Please. I’m close too, but I want you to come first. Need it. Need to feel you come on my cock.” Harry’s mouth comes down to his, delving his tongue in deep, their teeth clacking together. All Louis can feel, smell, taste, see, and touch is Harry. He is drowning in him. Fuck. That does it. That’s all it takes to push Louis over the edge into oblivion, not even falling, but launching himself head first into the unknown, in more ways than one. He screams into Harry’s mouth, his whole body shaking around the other man. Harry moans a few seconds later, and Louis feels it when his dick begins to pulse inside of him, coming into the condom. They lay tangled in each other’s arms for a few moments, Louis allowing a single tear to fall from his eyes as Harry keeps kissing him and murmuring words of praise. Holy shit.
Harry slowly pulls out of him, Louis whimpering with the loss. He doesn’t even bother cleaning himself off, not wanting Harry to get too far away from him after that. He grabs the other man, cuddling his naked body as close to him as possible, sighing in contentment. He doesn't know what this means for him and Harry, or their friendship. There is still so much that they need to discuss, but maybe later when Louis doesn’t feel like he is floating. Suddenly, his eyes pop open, remembering something. “What about your exam?” His voice comes out in a croak from disuse.
“I’ll fail,” Harry says, shrugging and turning into Louis, kissing him on the cheek. Yes. They have much they need to discuss, but this is good for now. This is perfect.